Soulmates
by Morgen Hyme
Summary: Soulmate ! AU. Everyone has a soulmate. Every person in the world. On the July 10th after their 18th birthday, they will switch bodies with their soulmate. But what will happen when there is an odd number of people? What happens to a small Japanese boy, the odd one out? AsaKiku.
1. Chapter 1

**Five Vital Points To Consider for this AU**

_AU Name: Soulmate ! AU_

· Two years after you are born, you get a uniquely shaped necklace from one of the elders in your village. The necklace fits with another person's on Earth.

· On the July 10th after your 18th birthday, you literally switch bodies with your soul mate.

· When you switch bodies, you write down your address and your name on a piece of paper and put it under the person's pillow

· If your soulmate is to die, you know it because you feel a huge pain in your chest. This pain will never go away. When this happens, people usually kill themselves.

· If you do not like the pairing/shipping commonly known as AsaKiku or IggyPan_ [sometimes UKJap or UKJp]_, I suggest you **_don't_** read this.

PS. Not a reader insert. At all.

.

_The two year old wailed in his mother's arms, the ugly tears staining his cheeks. _

_"Shhhh, Kiku... Hush, child."_

_His mother murmured quietly, the worn expression on her face making her look like she was 10 years older than she really was. Her black hair was long; dirty. It hadn't been washed in a few weeks. A man approached the weary mother, clasping a hand on her shoulder._

_"Not quieting, is he?"_

_Ayame shook her head and he smiled slightly, running a hand through his wife's slightly tangled hair._

_"I'll cook dinner today, how about that?"_

_The husband offered conversationally, then continued._

_"You seem worn out."_

_The wife nodded gratefully, smiling up at her husband._

_"Thank you."_

_Her voice was hoarse, weary, and sounded old. Sighing as he left the room, the man let himself into the kitchen, smiling as he heard the soft pattering of footsteps stumbling towards him from the living room._

_"Papi!"_

_He heard a gleeful shout, and a small body press itself into his legs. For a four year old, Kuro could walk pretty fast._

_"Is dinner ready yet?"_

_Kuro, Kiku's overexcited brother, asked happily, giving his father a large smile. He couldn't help but smile back at the adorable boy._

_"I've just started making it, son. It will be ready in 20 minutes."_

_A disappointed pout crossed Kuro's features, and he began to whine._

_"I'm hungry though, Papi."_

_The father knelt down and patted Kuro's head, giving him a third of a piece of bread._

_"Eat this until dinner, okay? And don't tell Mama."_

_Kuro nodded eagerly._

_Suddenly, there was a knock on the door._

_"I'll get it."_

_He heard his wife's voice from the next room over and reluctantly turned away from the door. He could hear a brief exchange at the front door, a few tidbits of laughter._

_"Papi, what's happening?"_

_His four year old son questioned, a finger popping into his mouth._

_"It's nothing."_

_He responded, reaching down and gently picking up Kuro in a soft embrace._

_"It's nothing."_

_At the front door, an old woman stood, leaning heavily on a long wooden stick._

_"Ah, hello Mistress Migaya."_

_Ayame said formally, bowing her head slightly to the elder who stood in front of her. A wrinkled smile crossed Old Woman Migaya's features._

_"I see you have the boy, yes?"_

_She asked, her croaky voice quiet. Kiku had gone silent when his mother had opened the door, staring with wide, puffy eyes at the witch-like old woman before him._

_"Y-yes!"_

_Ayame responded quickly, shifting her grip on Kiku slightly._

_"Well I've brought his necklace."_

_Migaya whispered, her voice somehow loud while quiet. The old woman held out a small necklace. Hanging from the end of it was half of a spiked triangle. She placed it around Kiku's head, and Kiku giggled slightly, reaching a hand to the necklace to tug at it. Old Woman Migaya smiled._

_"My business is finished, so I shall take my leave now."_

_She said croakily, and turned abruptly, her stick clunking against the ground with each step she took._

_"Good luck with the children, Ayame Honda."_

_And she was gone._


	2. Chapter 2

"Would you like whipped cream with that?"

Kiku shook his head silently. He came to this Teahouse much too often. What could he say? It was among the best ones in Marahito. The pretty girl at the counter smiled at him, but he didn't pay much notice. He didn't really care. He'd wait to fall in love. Everyone would. The girl's brief smile disappeared, and she told the lady behind her that Kiku did not want whipped cream in his hot chocolate.

It was among one of his first times ever trying hot chocolate. Kuro, his sixteen year old brother, insisted he try it, claiming that it was delicious. Kiku had shrugged, and replied with a 'Maybe.' But, growing curious, he'd decided to try it anyways. He moved aside for the next person to order their drink or little snack, and went to sit by the window of the café, staring out the window through blank brown eyes. He didn't bother to take off his jacket.

Outside, it was raining. For the past week, it seemed to always be raining. Kiku sighed, resting his chin on his palm, deep in thought.

When he heard his name called from the counter, he jolted, then stood, regaining composure, and walked over to where the cup of hot chocolate stood. Reaching tentatively towards it as if it were going to lash out and attack him, he touched the cup's side. It didn't feel too hot, so he grabbed it and, yawning slightly, put the cup to his lips and took a small sip. It wasn't bad.

Stretching slightly, he thanked the pretty girl at the counter and turned, opening the door to the café, stepping out of the warmth into the cold rain. Damn it. He hadn't brought an umbrella. Shivering to himself, he took another sip of the beverage to put some more warmth into his body and set off at a brisk pace towards home.

Kiku lived in a village called Marahito. Most of it was wilderness; flowers, weeds, and other greenery that was slowly but surely creeping over their fences into their gardens. The Japanese didn't mind this much, for the wilderness was their friend. If you were at peace with the mother of wilderness, then she would never hurt you or your family.

So they never picked weeds.

But today, the mother of wilderness seemed sad. She was sobbing, crying, trying to stifle her great, wracking sobs as the rain came and went, then came again. This was never a good sign. Something bad always happened on a rainy day.

Closing his eyes briefly, he fumbled with the key to his home, where him, his mother and his brother Kuro lived together. Kuro was nice. Kuro was very nice. Kuro read him stories when he was younger when he was scared; he lay next to him in bed afterwards until he fell asleep. His laugh was wonderful to hear, so filled with joy and happiness. That would all change in a matter of time though. But for now, Kuro was Kiku's role model; the person Kiku looked up to in times of need. Kiku's perfect older brother.

When he let himself in, thudding footsteps greeted him, along with a shout of his name.

"Kiku!"

Kuro embraced him. At first, one would think he was happy; he was normal. But oh, no. It was far from that. Kuro's chest was heaving with great sobs. Surprised, Kiku let himself be hugged by his brother, then pushed him away for a moment to look into his bloodshot red eyes. What a peculiar colour for eyes, red was.

"What's wrong, Kuro?"

He asked, trying to get the tremble or worry from entering his voice.

"Father's about to..."

Kiku didn't let his brother finish. He pushed Kuro away, racing down the hall, footsteps loud and thumping on the creaking wooden floor. The door to his father's bedroom slammed open. Ayame, his mother, looked up from beside his father's bed, eyes filled with unshed tears. She was holding her husband's hand, which hung out from the sheets, looking gray and cold.

Oh.

_Oh._

"What's wrong with Father?"

He asked, forcefully, though he knew exactly what had happened. His mother didn't reply, just stared up at him through pain filled brown orbs. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Kiku backed out of the room. The door slammed shut once more.

Kiku's father had been very sickly for the past few months. The family had brought him to the doctors countless times, but not one of them could tell them what he had. He kept coughing up blood, and telling them in a croaky voice that it would be okay, he would be okay. Lies. All of that was a lie. For his father was not okay; he was lying in his bed, _dead._ His father was _dead._

He heard his mother scream in agony from the other room as the first pang of loss hit her. As the first pang of pain coursed through her veins.

Kiku backed away from the door once more, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to hear any of it. Wanting to block out the noise, wanting the tears to stop, wanting everything to just disappear.

And in his mother's world, everything had disappeared.

Her soulmate was dead.

Ayame Honda was strong. She was a strong woman, and she refused to leave this earth until her sons got their soulmates. Despite the pain she felt in her chest, she continued to live for them and for them only. She was an aspiring writer before her husband's death, but she was forced out of that job due to money shortages.

Her husband's name was Takumi.

She became a businesswoman, going on train to the big concrete building she worked at. The grey, imposing building that seemed to rise above all of the others. She began wearing better, work-suited clothing, and her whole attitude towards life changed. Kiku didn't know what she was going through, but he did know one thing.

_When your soulmate dies, your soul wants to rip away from your body to join your soulmate's in death. But when said person doesn't want to die, they just feel that aching, ripping pain in their chests, until the day they pass away._

His brother had changed as well since Father Takumi's death. Kiku would walk into his room to find Kuro lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, vacant expression upon his features. It was like he was dead. Other times, Kiku would catch him tugging at his necklace, trying to pull it off. He didn't want to end up like their mother. He didn't want to end up heartbroken, for his heart wasn't strong enough for that.

Gradually, Kuro grew meaner.

Gradually, Kuro began to hate on his brother's desperate attempts to cheer him up.

Gradually, Kuro began to hate his brother.

Gradually, Kiku grew frightened of him.

On Kiku's fifteenth birthday, he went back to the Marahito Teahouse. He ordered a hot chocolate.

"Would you like whipped cream with that?"

The pretty girl at the counter smiled at him, but it faded quickly when she saw his almost dead expression. He replied with the slow shaking of his head. He was still grieving. Her smile turning crooked, the pretty girl told the woman behind her that he didn't want whipped cream in his hot chocolate.

Kiku went to sit by the window, staring outside, deep in thought.

It began to rain, drops of water tapping against the glass that separated him from the mother of wilderness' tears.

A/N:

_Hi guys!_

_I've been working for 12 hours straight on the template and this actual chapter. I hope you've liked it so far!_

DISCLAIMER:

Hetalia does not belong to me. The character Kiku Honda, Arthur Kirkland, and the idea of Kuro Honda and Sakura Honda do not belong to me. All of that goes to it's rightful owner, Hidekaz Himaruya.


	3. Chapter 3

Kiku had gotten a job at that teahouse.

He needed to support his family, no matter how twisted they'd become.

So now, instead of being in front of the counter ordering a drink, he was behind the counter, straight faced as always, brown eyes staring at the customers in front of him, absorbing their orders.

"Would you like whipped cream with that?"

He asked in a monotonous voice to the man who'd ordered hot chocolate.

Oh.

Just like him.

"Uh, yes please."

The man replied awkwardly, and Kiku turned and told the pretty smiling girl behind him,

"He wants whipped cream."

Another boring day in the shop went by.

3:00 came and went, 4:00 the same. Time seemed to slow whenever he was in the teahouse. It was almost calming; the warm smell of cinnamon mingling with the sharp scent of chai tea. Soon, it was 6:00, and he was permitted to go home. He said his goodbyes to the owner of the Teahouse, Kaoru, and the pretty girl at the counter, whose name he learned was Mihako. The soft jangling of a bell strapped to the top of the door signified that he'd opened the door, then closed it behind him as he left the shop.

Kiku walked slowly, taking his time to get back. He didn't want to confront his brother. His brother, who had changed so much. But eventually; inevitably, he reached the house. He unlocked the door with unsteady fingers, ready to greet anyone who came up to the door.

Or so he thought.

When the door swung open, a girl stood there. The girl being not his mother.

"Sa-Sakura?"

He gasped, frowning at his cousin.

"What are you doing here?"

Sakura stood in front of him, her short black hair decorated with red flowers. She was only slightly shorter than him. That was saying something though, because Kiku himself was only 4"11. Which was strange, because that meant Kuro was a good foot taller than him.

Kiku took after his mother.

Kuro took after his father.

"I live with you,"

Sakura said bluntly, confusingly. Kiku stared at his cousin, eye twitching slightly at her. Well this was news.

"Oh."

Was all he could say.

"Oh."

Sakura was only 10 years old. She was 5 years younger than Kiku and seven years younger than Kuro.

"Where's big brother?"

Sakura asked. She'd always referred to Kuro as big brother.

_Surely she has seen him by now._

Kiku thought to himself.

"You don't want to see him, he hasn't been in a very good mood recently."

Kiku respondly gently. But Sakura was stubborn.

"Where is he? I haven't seen him in two years."

She pouted.

_You haven't seen me in two years either._

Kiku bit back the rude response and rolled his eyes, beckoning her down the corridor to Kuro's room.

"If he's mean to you, don't be surprised."

He warned, voice softening. Sakura could be so stupid and careless sometimes, but he still adored her like a sister. Quickly escaping the scene as Sakura opened the door, he went to confront his mother about why his cousin was here.

Apparently, Aunt Misaki, or Sakura's mother, was dead.

"She died of some lung disease."

Kiku's mother seemed like she didn't even care that her sister was dead. She just seemed broken. She held down another cough of pain, her chest heaving. Kiku murmured words of comfort to her. She's become frail. The pain was hard to fight, he supposed. It was probably very hard to stand up every day to get on a train with the pangs of pain assaulting her chest.

Kiku's uncle was never to be spoken of. He left Sakura at birth, leaving Misaki alone with her newly born infant. Sakura's father was not her mother's soulmate. They'd met before they'd even turned nineteen.

Kiku cringed at the thought of that. At least his own father had been kind and stayed with him for 14 years. At least he hadn't left him alone with his mother and brother. At least it wasn't his fault he died.

He jumped to the sound of a crash and a bang, and a feminine yelp, accompanied by rough shouting. Kiku raced down the corridor and barged into Kuro's room. Sakura was sitting on the floor, winded, and Kuro was stalking back onto his bed, flopping back onto it with a growl. Kiku could see tears welling in Sakura's eyes.

"What the hell, Kuro?"

He shouted, hating this. Hating everything. Kuro only responded with a glare. Sakura stumbled to her feet, and, trying to refrain from sobbing, hurried out of the room.

"What's wrong with you? Ever since Father's death you've been acting -"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Kuro had gotten up silently, teeth bared like an angry dog's.

"Shut up, Kiku."

He hissed, red eyes flaring for a moment.

"B-But Kuro, you've been-"

Kiku began helplessly again, stammering slightly.

"I don't care about what you think about how I've been or what I've been doing. I need you to get the fuck out of my room before I snap."

Kiku stared back at his brother through wide eyes.

"I hate you."

He whispered hoarsely.

"I really hate you."

With that, Kiku turned and fled out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

_July 10th of the next year_

Tonight.

Tonight was the night Kuro would receive his soulmate's name, address, and phone number.  
Kiku rarely spoke to Kuro anymore, though he felt a nagging guilt in the pit of his stomach for what he had said nearly half a year before.

_"I hate you. I really hate you."_

Kiku didn't hate his brother, of course. It was nearly the opposite. He adored him, and wanted Kuro to become his old self once more. But that past seemed behind him. He seemed to be throwing away everything and everyone that meant anything to him. Sakura had turned twelve around a month before, and she still tried to speak with Kuro. Sakura would always leave the room, ignorant and defeated.  
Kiku could hear them shouting in the other room.

Again, with this miserable life.  
He hated it.

Their mother was at work in that huge grey concrete building now, probably typing away at a computer or something. She was strong. She would pull through. She would live for them, despite the gnawing pain she felt. It was worse for her than it was for him. Much worse.

The day drearily went by, and it almost seemed like a normal day. It almost seemed like Kuro would not wake the next day with a note under his pillow; it almost seemed like he wouldn't be gone in a matter of a few days to find his soulmate.  
But there were slight clues that it was time- Kuro muttering to himself as he stuffed his belongings into a bag, his mother coming home early to talk to him about soulmates. Kiku would get this speech on the July 10th after his 18th birthday as well. But right now, he was 16. He didn't need to worry about petty soulmates and packing up to leave.

He could distinctly hear Kuro swearing loudly to himself from the other room, and winced. He greatly disliked profanity, but it seemed profanity was all that came out of Kuro's mouth.

"Damn it!"

An extra loud shout came from Kuro's room. Kiku's eye twitched, and he tried to refrain from going to Kuro's room and giving him a lecture. Honestly, Kuro seemed to be aging backwards, growing more and more immature as time went by.

The daylight came and went, and soon it was night.  
Soon, it was time for Kiku to go to sleep.  
For Sakura to go to sleep.  
For Kuro to go to sleep.

"Goodnight, Sakura."

Kiku whispered when he passed Sakura in the corridor. Her brown eyes glowed in the gathering darkness. Kiku observed her bite her lip.

"Kiku, Kuro's leaving. He told me. He's leaving tonight, and he's never coming back. He says he hates everyone here."

She blurted out. It had obviously been a secret, because her hand immediately went up to cover her lips. Kiku could feel a dark swirl of despair churn in his belly.

_Oh._

"Okay."

Was he could say, it was all that came out of his mouth. Sakura looked slightly relieved he hadn't gone storming to Kuro's room.

"Goodnight, Kiku."

With that, Sakura stepped past his almost frozen form to go to her room. After a second of hesitation, Kiku copied her, walking down the corridor to his own room and opening the door. Kiku flopped onto the bed miserably, closing his eyes briefly, then opening them to stare up at the empty wooden ceiling.

"Goodnight, Kuro."

He whispered to nobody, but it seemed more like a goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

_Wow, thank you for all the reviews so far! It really menas a lot._

* * *

Sure enough, the next morning, Kiku awoke to his mother's frantic shrieking.

"K-Kuro, darling, where are you? It's not funny anymore..."

Her shrill voice echoed down the hall, breaking off in misery. Kiku groaned, swinging his legs off of the bed. He felt sick. He'd been hoping that what Sakura had told him was just a dream. He'd been hoping it wasn't real. But wishful thinking never helped.

He could feel ugly, hot tears budding at his eyes as he thought about the ridiculous pain his mother must be going through. First she loses her husband, then her son runs away without even saying goodbye? Kuro was so... so selfish! He only ever thought about himself and never even considered what would happen to Kiku or his mother. He never even thought about them.

Kiku found himself wondering if Kuro actually hated his family that much. Angrily wiping the tears from his eyes, Kiku stood up, feeling dizzy with loss. Why did he already miss Kuro so much? It was hard to explain.

Despite all the terrible words Kuro had said to Kiku, despite all the terrible actions he'd done- Kiku still remembered Kuro's joyful smile, his laugh- his wonderful, bubbling laugh. Kiku still remembered the time when Kuro's eyes gleamed with happiness instead of malice. His mother must be feeling the same way. She must be feeling the same loss.

He didn't want to see his mother's face as she looked to him pleadingly; he didn't want to see that same expression she'd had when his father died. Kiku never wanted to see that agonized face again.

Yet he found himself walking out of his bedroom, in some kind of trance. A part of him wanted to believe that Kuro was still here, that he hadn't left. That he wasn't gone. But his mother's cries of sorrow told him otherwise.

He opened the door to Kuro's bedroom, and saw what he'd expected- his mother kneeling on the floor, hands covering her face, back to him. It broke his heart to see his own mother, his strong mother, fall to pieces before him. He reached forward, wanting to comfort her. No words of comfort came out of his mouth. He had no words to say. There were no words to say.

He watched as his mother turned to face him.

"He didn't even say goodbye."

She whispered hoarsely, choking on her words. Kiku opened his mouth, trying to speak. Trying to say something, anything.

Nothing.

He heard the door open behind him. Sakura walk in, her face knowing. She knelt by her aunt, embracing her.

In Kiku's family, there was always at least one person who Kiku looked up to. At first it was his father- his strong but gentle father, who embraced him constantly and sang to him every night before he went to sleep. When his father grew sickly, it became Kuro that was Kiku's role model- the caring brother who always seemed to have an optimistic outlook on everything. But when Takumi died, however, Kuro shrunk back. Kuro became the darkness in his life, the gaping hole in his chest. It felt like instead of one person lost, there was two. Kiku's mother became strong. Kiku's mother looked over them all, loved them all, and cared for them all. But now? Now, Sakura was the strong one. Sakura wasn't even part of his family. Why couldn't he do anything? Why couldn't he being everyone's ray of optimism? Why was he the one always looking up to people?

Kiku backed out of the room and fled, running outside. It was bright, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The mother of wilderness didn't care anymore, it seemed. Shielding his eyes from the bright light, he sat in the shade of a large oak tree just outside his house. Leaning against the trunk, Kiku closed his eyes, though he could still see the red glare of the sun through his thin eyelids.

Two years.

Two years before Kiku would leave to find his soulmate as well.

Kiku didn't understand why this made his stomach clench with a sickening fear.

* * *

_Two years later_

_Marahito Teahouse_

* * *

"Thank you very much for working with us. I understand you turned eighteen last February, yes?"

Kaoru, the Teahouse's owner, smiled a wrinkled smile at Kiku.

"Oh, um, yes."

Kiku responded awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and looking down at the ground apprehensively.

"Well, it was wonderful working with you, dear."

The pretty smiling girl, Mihako, pulled one of the largest smiles Kiku had ever seen.

"I only have one year to go!"

She exclaimed optimistacally, almost bouncing up and down.

"Aaaanyways, that's stupid because it's in the future. My birthday was last month. I can't wait to meet my soulmate, oh, oh, I wonder what he'll be like!"

Kiku suppressed a smile at her enthusiasm. She'd always reminded him distictly of an Italian friend of his that he'd met over the internet. Mihako continued to babble on before Kaoru stopped her.

"Mihako, I think that's enough chatter for now, don't you think? It's well past six, so why don't you start cleaning up around here."

Kaoru suggested gently.

"Oh, okay!"

Came Mihako's eager reply, and she walked- or more accurately, bounced, away to clean up any spills and the like.

"Alright, so you, Kiku, you need to come again, yes?"

Kiku nodded, giving Kaoru a soft smile.

"I will."

He promised, nodding at her.

Then, to his great surprise, Kaoru reached out and hugged him.

"Oh, don't be so formal, Kiku. You've been working here for two years now, I think I deserve at least one hug when you leave."

Kiku laughed. "Okay, alright." He gave in, hugging the elderly woman back in a slightly awkward manner. Kaoru was, however, unable to read the mood. Ever. So, she was unable to sense the awkwardness that seemed to float from Kiku in waves.

Neither was Mihako, because she came bounding to them when she first glimpsed the hug.

"Group hug!"

She shouted, grinning, and flopped her longer arms around the both of them.

* * *

It was 6:30 by the time he got back. 30 minutes late. But, he held a cup of warm hot chocolate in his hand. Of course, the hot chocolate was complentary. And of course, the hot chocolate didn't have whipped cream.

His mother greeted him at the doorway, a small frown pulling her lips downward.

"You're late, Kiku. I was beginning to worry."

She said curtly.

"Sorry, mother. I was saying my goodbyes to Mrs. Kaoru and Mihako."

His mother's gaze softened slightly.

"Okay, I suppose it should be alright. Just don't be late agai-"

She broke off when she seemed to remember that Kiku was never going back to work at the teashop. He'd quit, because he was going to be far away in a matter of weeks, most likely. Only if he was very lucky would his soulmate already live close to him. That rarely happened.

"Anyways, Kiku, I need to speak with you about soulmates."

She said, leading him inside after her. Kiku followed her uncertainly, wondering what exactly she was going to be covering. Didn't he already know everything about them? Wasn't he educated enough?

Oh.

This must be the talk the was given to Kuro the night he got his soulmate. They'd only heard from Kuro once since he'd left, and it had been through a text message from an unfamiliar number that read

_"Amy Jones_

_19 Cross Street, Camnden, ST_

_942-376-0158*"_

The ST stood for Stellis, which was a state in the US.**

Everyone presumed that this 'Amy Jones' was Kuro's soulmate. They'd called the number many times, but the only thing that picked up was a lousy recording in English that neither Kiku nor his family could understand.

Kiku snapped back into the real world when his mother sat him down on the couch.

"Kiku,"

She began.

"Please don't leave like Kuro did."

Kiku shook his head.

"I won't."

He responded. He could see his mother visibly relax.

"Good. That's good."

With that, she stood up and left the room, leaving Kiku sitting by himself in the living room.

* * *

That night, Kiku lay restless in his bed, excited to change forms with his soulmate.

He couldn't sleep. All he could think about was what she would look like, what her smile would look like, what she would say when they first met in person.

He was certain his soulmate would be female.

I mean, he was straight. So totally straight. Absolutely. There was no doubt about it.

Kiku wiggled around in his bed for a moment, trying to get rid of curiosity that nagged at him.

He could feel his brain slowly but surely shutting off, telling him that he was tired, saying to him that he should go to sleep.

Eventually, that's exactly what he did.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun cast a supernatural yellow glow onto the earth below. Kiku blinked his eyes open, breathing in the warm air. A sillhouette stood before him, and he stepped forward, reaching out a hand, trying to identify who it was. The dark figure's head shook slowly back and forth.

He tried once more, stepping forward carefully again, but the creature seemed to glide away, feet barely touching the ground. Kiku's breath caught in his throat. It was the most mesmerizing thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. He stood, frozen, staring at the thing in front of him.

The person let out a long sigh. Kiku could see the outline of their jaw moving downwards. He opened his own mouth, attempting to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. The figure dropped something to the ground. It was a slip of paper with words scrawled across it. Kiku reached forward, picking up the paper and trying to read the text. But, it was in English- a language that Kiku couldn't read.

He looked up at the figure, and it waved a finger at the paper. When Kiku looked down once more, it was in his own language. Desperately, he read the words, nodding thanks to the shadowed figure.

_'Arthur Kirkland_

_96 Blighton Ave, Milham, UK*_

_968-903-2361'**_

_He stared at it, trying to make sense of it. Was this his soulmate? No, no, it couldn't be; Arthur was a man's name._

_But, as Kiku stared at the paper even more, it began to make sense. He knew himself that he'd prefer ... Well, a man. But he just didn't want to admit it. It was shameful in his country. But, he supposed if his soulmate spoke English, they were probably American, so he'd move to America. Hopefully it wasn't shameful there._

_The paper began curling at the corners, the edges blackening as somekind of blue flame bit away at the paper. His fingers grew hot, and he was forced to drop the paper._

_'Arthur Kirkland... Arthur Kirkland... Arthur Kirkland...'_

_He repeated the name over and over again, trying to remember it._

_'Arthur Kirkland... Arthur Kirkland... Arthur Kirkland...'_

_And suddenly he was underwater; the sky was above him, the dazzling sun shining down and creating long rays of sunlight that pierced through the water's surface and into his eyes._

_It was relatively peaceful until Kiku realized he couldn't breathe. He tried to gasp, but water filled his lungs instead of the much-needed oxygen. His eyesight grew blurry, and he struggled to see; struggled to breathe. Struggled to remember the name on that slip of paper._

_Kiku tried desperately to paddle to the surface, but nevertheless felt himself sinking._

_Down..._

_Down..._

_Down._

_Black began to pool around his vision. Kiku opened his mouth to let out a strangled stream, but only a frantic stream of bubbles floated from it._

_Suddenly, he felt warm arms envelop him, pulling him up, up, up! towards the sunlight; towards the sky; towards the open air. Kiku turned his head to look at his savior, his stomach twisting as he saw the shadowed figure from before. The only thing he could make out were dazzling emerald green eyes._

* * *

Kiku shot upwards, breathing labored and rapid.

"Arthur..."

The only thing Kiku could remember as he awoke from his dream was Arthur's first name and those beautiful green eyes. He blinked once, then turned frantically to feel under his pillow. At first he wasn't worried. The slip of paper was probably hidden in the folds of his pillow. But as he continued searching and nothing was found, he grew worried. Trying to calm himself, he muttered,

"It's okay... It'll be there..."

Movements growing frantic, he sat up, lifting his pillow up. Nothing was underneath it. No paper, no nothing. Kiku visibly flinched.

"Arthur... Arthur who?!"

He gasped, wiping sweat off of his forehead. For once, the usually calm and composed Japanese teen was feeling disorganized, frantic, and desperate. Kiku took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to calm himself, trying to remember if he'd awoken in Arthur's body during his sleep. He couldn't remember anything. Was it normal to forget this?

Kiku slipped out from under his sheets and stood up, turning and making his bed before walking down the stairs to where Sakura sat eating her breakfast. She looked up brightly.

"Good morning, cousin Kiku!"

She greeted,then questioned,

"Can you show me your paper?"

She waggled her eyebrows. She nudged him as he sat down, sullen expression painted onto his face. Sakura waited, one of her legs quivering in slight anticipation.

"Kiku?"

She nudged him again, and Kiku had to refrain from snapping at her.

"There was nothing under my pillow, Sakura."

He said shortly, cutting off any other thing she was about to say.

"You're joking."

She declared confidently. His glare made her think otherwise. Kiku tried to calm himself, and half succeeded. He brushed a lock of messy black hair from his eyes, his mouth a straight line.

"Sakura, I'm going to America."

He told his cousin, who gasped, her brown eyes widening.

"Does your soulmate live there?"

She asked, cocking her head. Kiku pursed his lips and turned.

"I'm going to start packing."

* * *

It took a few days for Kiku to get fully packed and ready to leave for America. He'd told his mother and Sakura his problem when he'd calmed himself, and they'd reluctantly agreed to let him go to the far off country.

What was his reason for wanting to leave? Well, Kuro lived in America with his soulmate, Amy. Maybe they could help him. Maybe Kuro had changed.

Kiku's mother had gotten quite a lot wealthier in the past year, mostly because she'd been promoted more than a few times. They also had less mouths to feed, without Kuro there. It was easier, though Kiku had to admit it was quieter and much more lonely without his brother there. Even if the only thing he ever did was bully them.

Kiku stood at the front door to his house, lugging a grey suitcase behind him. His mother hugged him closely, kissing his forehead. Despite the fact that Kiku highly disliked invasions of personal privacy, this was one of the few exceptions.

"Come back, okay?"

His mother whispered into his ear. He nodded, whispering a quiet

"I will."

Next, Sakura threw her arms around his neck, weighing him down greatly.

"I'll miss you."

She told him. A slight smile graced his features, and he returned the comment back to her. His mother cast a worried glance at him, the lines on her old face much more prominent with the stress of her son leaving- maybe forever.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you to see you off?"

She offered. He nodded, and smiled lightly.

"I'll be okay, I promise."

Weakly, his mother nodded.

"I love you, Kiku. Be safe."

With one final hug, Kiku turned, then began walking down the street towards where a taxi waited. It was freezing out, cold air pricking at his skin like tiny needles. Wind whipped past him, making his scarf billow behind him like a flag. He tucked his already cold hands into his pocket, his cheeks blossoming from the cold.

The black haired teen met the taxi driver, and the older man grabbed his suitcase and putting it into the trunk of the car. The suitcase thudded into the trunk, making a small thunking noise. It was good that he didn't have anything fragile in there. It was relatively early out, so the sound of the trunk closing was loud. Very loud. Thanking the driver for taking care of his suitcase in a monotonous voice, Kiku dipped his head towards the bearded man, who introduced himself as Masato.

The eighteen year old slid into the car, closing the door behind him. He sighed with relief when he realized interior of the car was still warm. The taxi driver started up the car, then began driving.

Kiku never looked back.

* * *

***Not a real place in the UK**

****Not a real phone number**

* * *

**Sorry for the lack of updates this past week, I was in a dark place that had no WiFi~ **

**Also known as **

**'I was on vacation.'**

**And y****eah, yeah.**

**I know this chapter is really shitty.**

**The only time I had to work on it was maybe ten minutes each day, so take pity?**

**Next chapter will come out as soon as possible /which may not be as soon as I hope/~**

**Thank you for your patience~**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm back!**

**Yes, ton of schoolwork.**

**Oh, by the way, I don't own Hetalia.**

**Just wanted to get that out there.**

**XD**

**So this is a shortish chapter, but I think this one is particularly well written.**

* * *

The cab rattled back and forth along the bumpy road.

"So,"

The driver started, voice creaking like floorboards in an old house. Kiku stood - or sat, rather, at attention, back straight and ears alert. This would be his first time going off on his own somewhere far off and he was feeling nervous and worried for himself. What if he couldn't catch the plane on time? What if it crashed? Kiku shook his head, his black locks of silky hair waving back and forth in front of his eyes. He couldn't think those thoughts. He would just chicken out if he did.

So Kiku concentrated on the driver's words.

"Why're ye goin' to the airpor'?"

He questioned, giving Kiku a gaping grin from the driver's seat. Kiku had never been very comfortable with driving in a car with another person he didn't know. It was rather awkward. Especially if the other person looked to be 50 years older then he. He observed the cab driver light a cigarette and put it in his mouth, yellowed fingers curling around the small, stick-like thing. A puff of smoke blew lazily from thin grey lips. Realizing he was being rude by not answering and staring instead, Kiku started and gave him a delayed reply.

"I'm going to America, sir."

The man chuckled, brown eyes knowing.

"Are you seeking something?"

Kiku nodded, but didn't say anymore. The cab driver's eyes crinkled in a knowing smile, and then the drive became silent, with only the sound of the car bundling along the trail and the driver's long intakes of the smoke.

* * *

Kiku looked around the airport, staring up at the ceiling in awe. It was so... modern looking, unlike his own house, which was styled to look traditionally Japanese. The black haired teen stood still, gazing around at his surroundings, before rolling his suitcase behind him, ID in hand.

It was a couple hours of confusing paper-signing and baggage checks (why did they have to take even their shoes off?) before Kiku was actually sitting inside the warm airplane, hands clenched tightly together in a mixture of worry and excitement. The plane ride was said to be thirteen hours long. _On the short side, _Kiku noted, _If you compare it to a normal person's life expectancy. _He tried to be optimistic.

The plane began inching forward, slowly, turning around a bend in the huge grey road. Kiku could feel the engines begin to roar as the plane began going faster and faster. He felt like covering his ears, but refrained from doing so. He may as well get used to the sound now; he would be listening to it for thirteen hours straight. Kiku felt the strange sensation of being airborne and bit his lip nervously, clenching clammy fingers together. The person next to him seemed to be used to this; she was reading a magazine and turning the pages slowly and deliberately. She turned and looked at him.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit pale."

Kiku didn't want to admit he felt queasy, so he just nodded his head.

The flight seemed to last forever. He checked his phone once or twice to check the time, and was disappointed to see only two out of the thirteen hours had been taken up. He wrung his hands, bored. He'd already read all of the magazines in the compartment in front of him twice now, and he didn't want to read them again. The woman next to him was sound asleep, an eye mask covering her closed eyes. Kiku heard the sound of wheels and turned to look down the aisle. A woman was walking down it, pushing a cart of food and drink on it. Kiku licked his lips. He was hungry, and bored. Eating would help both.

"Uhhh, would you like teriyaki beef and rice or buckwheat noodles and dorayaki?"

The woman asked, tapping her long nails on the handle of the cart. Kiku pondered for a moment, then decided on the latter, telling that to the flight attendant.

"Okay... Tea, soda, Bloody Mary, milk, or OJ?"

She questioned in her nasally voice.

"Er... What's Bloody Mary?"

"Tomato Juice."

"I'll take the tea."

When he got his food, he realized that it wasn't the most appetizing thing in the world. The noodles looked stringy, and the dorayaki looked awfully dry. It would have to do.

Taking his sweet time, Kiku began to eat, trying to ignore the bland taste of the food.

It needed salt.

Or better yet, soy sauce.

Mmm.

* * *

Many, many hours later, Kiku was stepping out of the airplane. It was cold, and he could feel it biting at his cheeks once more, even though he was protected by the thin walls of the passage. He zipped up his coat and hugged his carry-on bag to his chest, then began to walk briskly towards the end of the passage.

Kiku was greeted by a spectacular sight - a beautiful marble fountain. It looked like a collage, with magnificently carved statues standing here and there, holding pots that spilled water into the pool below.

"Hey, dude! You look lost! Can I help you? I am the hero, after all! Helping people is my job! So what do you need?"

Kiku started, and turned to face the other man before him.

"I don't speak very good English."

He stated in a very prominent Japanese accent.

"I'm sorry."

"Really?! That's totally okay! Let's see, you look Asian, so you're from China, right?"

Kiku's eye twitched in slight annoyance. _Just because I'm Asian doesn't mean I'm Chinese. _He repeated that thought to the American before him, who had somehow conjured up a burger from thin air and was biting into it.

"Oh, sorry."

The American apologized through a mouthful of burger, not sounding sorry at all.

"My name's Alfred! What's yours?"

"... I am known as Kiku Honda. It is a pleasure to meet you."

* * *

Alfred had finished eating the burger.

And only around five seconds had passed since he'd gotten it. So, of course, Alfred had insisted on bringing Kiku to the infamous 'McDonald's'.

"Dude, dude. These burgers are really good, you want one?"

Kiku shook his head, smile twitching slightly. _He's the epitome of all the stereotypes about American people... _Kiku thought, staring at him.

"Oh, yeah, um, so, like, what do you need help with?"

Alfred asked once more, leaving Kiku to stumble over his words. Kiku had been taught English for 4 years in his life, and he could still speak it pretty well, though he made a few grammar mistakes. The American didn't even seem to notice.

"Um, well... I'm looking for brother... Brother came here when he found that soulmate was here."

Alfred nodded, not even noticing his messing up of words.

"Oh, alright! What's his face?"

By that of course, Alfred meant _What's his name? _But poor Kiku couldn't piece that together. He began describing his brother's face to him.

"Red eyes-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Alfred cut him off.

"That's a weird name, dude! Like what kind of person has the name Redies! Is his last name Honda, like yours? Of course it is. Redies Honda! Haha!"

"Um, no, it's-"

Kiku was cut off again.

"Although it's a pretty cool name though, but I don't want it. I'm good with Alfie or Alfred! But I wish I was named, like, Tony Stark or something awesome like that!"

Kiku wanted to facepalm. The American talked too much.

"Are you sure you don't want a hamburger?"

"Yes, Quite."


	7. Chapter 7

**I really appreciate all of the comments guys! TT^TT **

**I don't deserve them, really!**

**I'm also very, very sorry for the irregular gaps in between posting. Homework... Tests... Projects... And other school-relating things.**

**Ugh. Effort. I hate effort.**

**Sometimes.**

**Anyways, I love you all!**

* * *

"So,"  
Alfred started, polishing off his sixth hamburger.

_That is positively inhuman,_

Kiku couldn't help thinking, keeping his gaze on Alfred's mouth-

_To be able to talk around all of those hamburgers..._

"Y' lo'kn' fer yor shoulm't?"

Kiku tried to process the words; but found that he couldn't.  
"Er..."  
Kiku managed to get out, a look of positive confusion etched onto his features. Alfred looked at him curiously, as if he actually expected Kiku to understand anything he'd just said. The American cocked his head, glasses sliding down his nose. Alfred finally put down his sixth- _seventh? _burger to push them back up onto the bridge of his nose with his ring finger. Kiku had to stifle an impolite snicker at that. In all the anime he'd ever watched, the smart guy with the smooth voice (that all the girls fell for) always had glasses, and those characters always pushed them up just like Alfred just had. But the funny thing was, Alfred was probably the _farthest _possible away from being one of those book-reading, smart, and smooth characters. Kiku realized the American was waiting for a reply and Kiku jumped back to this world.  
"I'm sorry, excuse me?"  
He spluttered.

Alfred grinned.  
"You're looking for your soulmate-"

He let that one phrase out of his mouth before picking up the paper cup of soda and slurping at it, muffling anything else he could be saying. Kiku let out a small, inconspicuous sigh and shifted his position so that his chin was in his hands.  
"Yes, I'm looking for my soulmate."

Kiku confirmed, so quiet his words were almost inaudible. But the sentence didn't go unnoticed by the eager American before him. He'd finished eating by then, and the cup of soda was now empty; the eleven hamburgers Alfred had ordered now reduced to crinkled-up orange wrappers and little corners of cheese and lettuce that had dropped from the sandwich. Oh. So he'd been eating eleven _cheeseburgers_, not hamburgers. Kiku guessed that probably didn't matter.

"What's her name?!"

Alfred grinned eagerly, picking up one of the balled up wrappers and throwing it at the nearby trashcan, easily getting it in. Kiku blushed slightly, just a mere dusting of his cheeks, before correcting the American in his quiet voice.

"What's _his _name."

Kiku waited, and the American only smiled wider.

"Oh, okay. What's his name?"

Kiku raised his head up in disbelief. He hadn't expected the American to go along with it so easily.

"Arthur."

Kiku supplied quietly, but the other heard nevertheless. Kiku looked up, expecting to see Alfred nodding contemplatively or maybe scarfing down another hamburger- no, _cheeseburger, _(why did it matter so much?) but Alfred's eyes were alight with glee.

"What's his last name?"

Alfred asked bouncily. Kiku cast his gaze away and told him that he didn't remember.

"Well that's pretty fucking bad."

Kiku recoiled as if he had been slapped in response to the vulgar language. Cultures were so different. Was it totally okay in America to go around talking up a storm of swears? Kiku supposed it was, because nobody gave the pair a second glance.

"Er, yes, I suppose so."

Kiku responded slowly, unable to keep the excitement from showing on his face.

"I know an Arthur, though. And he can't find his soulmate, either. For some reason he didn't get anything under his pillow."

Alfred laughed. "I guess he doesn't have a soulmate!"

The Japanese man's eyes widened at his good fortune. Alfred must have realized that Kiku was waiting for him to go on, but paused.

"Do you want to get out of the airport?"

Alfred asked suddenly.

"Are you waiting for a flight or something?"

Kiku questioned in reply with his stilted English. The American shook his head.

"My soulmate was going to come to America today to meet me, but their flight got canceled."

He sounded solemn for a second there, but his voice brightened up immediately after, so Kiku wondered if he'd missed it.

"Anyways, let's get out of here, yeah?"

Alfred stood, threw away his trash, and beckoned for Kiku to follow him. Alfred flagged down a cab when the two walked out of the airport. It actually wasn't that bad when it came to temperature, but Kiku didn't bother to unbutton his coat. Alfred didn't feel the slightest bit of unease when it came to bringing an almost-complete-stranger to his house, but Kiku couldn't help feeling slightly awkward, suspicious, and confused. Maybe this was normal for the American? Kiku smiled inwardly to himself, sighing. _Well, I may as well trust him; he is my only chance of finding Arthur. _He thought to himself as the cab driver picked up his small suitcase and dumped it into the trunk.

Alfred went round to the other side of the cab and jumped in, patting the seat next to him eagerly, motioning for Kiku to get in. He opened the door reluctantly and slid in, closing the door behind him, listening to Alfred tell the cab driver (this time a brown-haired young man) where to go. The cab started, and Kiku stifled a sigh.

No turning back now.

* * *

Kiku managed to find sleep in the cab, which was surprising, because Kiku could only fall asleep when things were absolutely silent. Alfred was being uncharacteristically quiet, and Kiku couldn't fathom why. When Alfred realized that Kiku had finally awoken from his sleep, he perked up immediately. Was he hiding pain with a smile? Kiku shook his head. Alfred's blue eyes were, honestly, very easy to read. Kiku could see the swirling of pain inside them.

"What's wrong?"

Kiku ventured. Alfred smiled brightly.

"Nothing, dude, I'm fine!"

Kiku snapped his jaws shut, stopping himself from asking anything else. The car ride was silent the rest of the drive to Alfred's house.

When the cab finally parked, and Alfred paid their driver, (though Kiku tried to persuade the American to let him pay) they stepped outside. It had gotten considerably cooler, and Kiku dipped his chin into the folds of his black, Western-styled coat. Alfred led him up the paved path to his house, which was actually quite bigger than Kiku expected.

"You're tired, right?"

Alfred asked Kiku, and Kiku nodded quietly.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms~"

Alfred said, smiling, and helped Kiku with his suitcase up the winding staircase, leading him down the corridor to a fairly sizable room. It had tasteful cream colored walls, a small bed in the corner of the room with a dark blue and gold spread, and empty wooden bookshelves that covered the wall on the other side of the room. A small door immediately next to the foot of the bed was half open to reveal a closet, which was empty. Next to the head of the bed was a nightstand and a pretty white drawer for clothing.

"Why don't you get settled here, dude! Come downstairs, I'll be in the kitchen. You must be starving! I sure am!"

Kiku puzzled over this for a moment. It had only been an hour since Alfred had eaten those eleven cheeseburgers. The Japanese teen came to the conclusion that Alfred was probably one in a million- no, _billion, _to be able to eat that much.

Kiku bent down, unzipping the suitcase's zipper and letting out a shaky breath. _Alfred seems like a good person, _he decided. With dainty fingers, he picked up the clothing, about to put them into the drawer, before reconsidering. _I'll probably only be staying the night. _Kiku reasoned, then stopped and folded the shirt once more, putting it back into the suitcase and zipping it back up. Padding down the winding steps, Kiku could hear Alfred yelling out swears and curses as he probably cut himself (not purposely, of course) with a kitchen knife.

"Shit! That hurt!"

He heard the American yelp good naturedly upon seeing Kiku enter the kitchen.

"I'm trying to make a cheeseburger, but I can't cut the tomato."

Alfred sighed along with Kiku. Cheeseburgers? Again? This was going to get old, but Kiku could only smile as he took up the knife and cut the tomato for him.

"Thanks! You're pretty good at that! Did you take cooking lessons or something?"

Kiku shook his head, unable to stop himself from laughing quietly to himself. The room fell into a slightly awkward silence, which Kiku ignored. Alfred spoke up.

"So, do you want to know where Arthur is?"

Alfred asked, his voice dropping slightly. He sounded almost sad. He could sense the mood, and he knew, for some reason, that Alfred didn't want him to say yes. With some hesitation, he did anyways. Alfred sucked at pretending.

"Alright! What about I drive you to Canada tomorrow, okay?"

Kiku spluttered for a moment.

"Canada? Wh-why?"

Canada wasn't far from where they were now, but it was still a good two hour drive. Kiku didn't want Alfred to have to spend so much money on gas for him.

"Because, Arthur's there."

* * *

Kiku was incredibly lucky. For some people, it took _years_ to find their soulmates. Others, their soulmates died before they were found. But Kiku was lucky. Through his initial panic, he'd found a beacon of hope (being Alfred), who was going to lead him straight to his soulmate.

It was really too bad that Arthur had cancer.


End file.
